Lucky
by nyakattia
Summary: Do you even know how Lucky you are? Flack and Mac help Stella in the aftermath of the fire. Fiesta. StellaMac friendship. Sexual situations. You have been warned.


It was an easy decision to invite Stella to stay in his spare room while she once more picked up the pieces of her life. She had slept there before, in the days following Claire's death. Afterwards he had kept the old futon couch, despite the space it took up in what was technically his home office, just in case.

That night he lay awake in the darkness, listening to the restless movement in the next room. It was early morning, the witching hour, the hour when burdens weigh most heavily. Eventually he got to his feet and headed down the hall to the bathroom, pausing for just a moment outside her door.

On the way back a few minutes later, he heard her speak.

"Hey."

She said it quietly, and he knew she wasn't speaking to him.

"I'm at Mac's. Can you..."

The door was slightly ajar, and he nudged it open a little further. In the dark he could just see her sitting in the middle of the made up bed, facing away from him. The glow of a cell phone weekly illuminated the room.

She ran through her loose curls. "Just come over."

Turning, Mac padded back down the hall to his bedroom.

They had talked earlier, over dinner. Old comforting words between old friends before she had smiled and sent him to bed. He had helped her all he could, and if she needed someone else then he was going to give her privacy to do so.

--

He hadn't been expecting his occasional lover to call him that night. She was with Mac after all, her oldest friend, and he knew his place in her life. He was slowly pushing her into something more, but for now he was settling for having her whenever she wanted him.

Something in her voice had him hurrying through the rest of his paperwork and barely an hour after she called he was knocking softly on Mac's front door. In the quiet darkness he heard the clicking of the tumblers as she disengaged the locks before the door opened, whispering softly against the carpeted floor.

"Hey," he said quietly, stepping into the apartment as she stood back.

She relocked the door behind him before facing him. The dim light provided by a lamp on a side table revealed wild curls and a short silky negligee. "You okay?"

She half smiled an odd smile, and reached up to kiss him. He could feel her impatience in the way her tongue invaded his mouth, the way her hands gripped onto the lapels of his suit jacket. Threading one hand into her hair, he stroked the other down her back, a gesture that was supposed to soothe, to comfort.

Instead she pulled back, breaking the kiss and turning her attention to nipping at his jawline as her hands pushed him backwards.

"Stell-" he said quietly, moving when she directed him to. He backed into something and she pushed him down. He tried to muffle his surprise as he landed awkwardly on the couch, Stella on top of him, straddling his legs.

"Stella..."

She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his at last. "I want you," she stated, her hands moving down his chest.

He drew in an uneven breath and contemplated his options. Unfortunatly, his honor won out. "Stella, stop."

She drew back, raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong, Detective?" she murmured. "You aren't up for it?"

She started to unbuckle his belt, pulling the leather strap free of the buckle. "Isn't Mac here?" he whispered fiercely in protest.

"He's asleep." Moving her hands back up his chest again she began unbuttoning his shirt, her mouth exploring the skin she revealed with teeth and tongue. "I need you. Now. Fuck me, Don."

He kept his hands firmly on her hips, where he had placed them as they had fallen onto the sofa, but the silky smooth negligee certainly wasn't helping any. Resting his head back on the couch he stared up at the barely visible ceiling, swallowing when her nails scratched at his chest as she continued to undo the buttons on his shirt.

"Stella," he said on a frustrated sigh.

In response she flicked open the button of his slacks. He grabbed her wrist just as she reached inside, halting further progress. "Stella," he looked down and recognised the wildness in her eyes.

"Come on, Donnie," she said, her voice sugar coated on his name. He hated that name. "This says you're ready to go." Her fingertips stroked at his growing erection through his cotton boxers. Groaning he yanked her hand up between them, grabbing her other wrist as a precaution.

"I am not doing this with Mac in the next room," he growled at her.

She wriggled on his lap and he let out another involuntary groan. "Doesn't it turn you on?" she asked, wearing that odd half smile. She leaned forward, her breath whispering over his lips. "To know we might get caught?"

To a certain extent, he was ashamed to say, it did. "Stella, stop it." He swallowed again, looking away for a moment to gain some small measure of control. "I know what you're doing."

She sent him a hard look, and pulled at his hold on her wrists. "You don't want to fuck me? Fine. I guess I'll go wake Mac up after all."

"No you won't." he told her, the certainty in his voice surprising even him. "Because he will see right through you." Just like I do, he wanted to add, but didn't.

"Then I'll call someone else," she said, her arms going limp as her face went carefully blank. She suddenly seemed calm, composed, but he knew better to release his hold on her just yet. "What, you think you're the only man on my list? I have others." She arched one eyebrow.

Now that stung. And though he knew she was deliberately provoking him, he couldn't help but get a little angry. "Well too fucking bad, because you're not going anywhere," he spat out between clenched teeth.

"That's unlawful imprisonment, Detective," she told him, her cool gaze still firmly in place.

"Then arrest me." When she continued to stare at him he growled, unable to stop his worry, his fear, his anger from poring out. "Do you even know how fucking lucky you are?"

"Lucky?" She asked incredulously. She looked away, the muscles in her neck straining.

He ducked his head, tugging on her wrists to get her attention. "Yeah, Stell. Lucky."

Her eyes snapped back to his. The wildness was gone, and so was that cool gaze she had practiced during hundreds of interviews. Instead, he finally saw what he had been waiting for all along. "You call this lucky, Flack?" she asked, blinking rapidly. "I've lost everything. I'm sleeping in Mac's spare room." Her voice cracked. "I don't even have a fucking change of clothes."

He sighed. "You've got me, Stell." He let go of her wrists and wrapped his arms around her instead, pulling her close. "You've got me and Mac, and everyone else. You're alive."

He searched her eyes for a moment then leaned forward just a little and kissed her softly. Eventually she would know just how thankful he was that she had been so lucky. "You're alive."

--

Mac awoke sharply, certain something was wrong. He was half way out of bed before he remembered Stella. And Stella's guest.

With his feet on the floor he paused, listening. All was quiet and he contemplated lying back down and going back to sleep. The clock by his bed was now reading a time closed to five am than four, and his tired mind was reminding him that he had to get up for work in a few more hours.

Instead he got to his feet and walked over to open his bedroom door. Once more he padded down the hallway in bare feet to stand outside his spare room. But this time the door was wide open, and the room was empty.

Turning, Mac walked over to the entranceway to his living room. And stopped.

On the couch, Flack opened his eyes and looked at him. His feet rested on one armrest, his shoulders against the other, the couch a little short for the disheveled detective. And along his lean form lay Stella, her head resting on his chest and her eyes closed fast in sleep.

Mac noted, briefly, the way his arms held her protectively close, the way their legs entwined. The blanket that had been lying over the back of his couch had been pulled down, covering them haphazardly.

After a moment Don nodded, a slight dip of his chin.

Mac nodded back. And walked back down the hallway to his bedroom.

--

I know I've already written a fire story fic, but as soon as I posted that one, this story popped into my head and I just couldn't resist it.


End file.
